Home Improvement
by Thor
Summary: (Part 2) Marv returns in this tale where he faces Ventrue politics and a dame worth killing for (and killing for, and killing for, and...)
1. Part 1

Ah Marv, how I do love him and his adventures. Maybe it's because he's the first of my Detroit characters. Maybe it's because he's so fun and simple to write for. Maybe it's because he just deals with problems in a way I sort of always wished I could. But don't get him wrong, Marv is far more cunning then he may seem. After all, he's played polotics with the Ventrue and the prince before. What? You haven't heard that story? Well heck, there's Marv over there. Why don't you go ask him about the time he helped out the Ventrue clan with a little...

Home Improvement: A Tale of Detroit 

Hey, my names Marv. I've talked to you before haven't I? Yeah...I did. Told ya all about my angel, wanna hear it again? No? Well then why the hell are ya here? Oh...oh yeah. I could see how that could be confusing ta someone who weren't there. All right, pull up a chair there pal. By the way, you're buyin' I don't go around tellin' stories for my health ya know. Okay, so the whole mess with the Ventrue an' the Prince started over some little prick who broke my bottle o' brew. Eh...yeah that's right. Don't get nervous pal, you bought this bottle, so it wouldn't be the same thing. Ya see that night... I bought the bottle. 

* * *

It was Friday, so I was in Gurdy's lookin' ta relax a little. I'd just gotten back from Tina's and so I had my medicine, and I prefer ta take the stuff with some blood y'know...eh? Tina? Oh, she's some sorta mage or something. Yeah, no shit. I met her back when I was messing around in some Giovanni deal. She got interested with all the crud going on in my head, asked if she could poke around and study me a bit. I said sure. In exchange I get my medicine. Just some little pills really, but they help keep me from seeing things, and help me ta concentrate on what's really going on. 

Gurdy's ain't no fancy place, so I came as I was. Sure my trench coat was a little ragged and I had blood stains on my combat boots. But I was wearing a clean tank top, I swear. Course usually people don't notice my clothes, not when they can check out my battered and scarred face and judge me just fine on that feature alone. Like all of a sudden they can peg me as a six foot plus bundle of trouble or something. My brown hair was, as always, kept in a short crewcut. Neat and out of the way, just the way I like it. Do you ever wonder about all those pretty boys with long hair who prance around like they could take ya in a fight? They never fought me, I'd show them what can happen to long pretty hair in a fight...

So anyways, I'm walking inta Gurdy's and the place is going good and solid. There's some local guy up on stage with his band. They were playing a good country tune, the type that makes ya wanna drink more beer and just soak it all in. So I walk up ta the bar and empty my pockets. It takes a bit of fiddlin' and messin' but it turns out I had just enough for one whole bottle. I was pretty happy with that, so I took my bottle o' Gurdy's special brew. It's a decent blood an' alcohol mixture, it gives a nice buzz without having to suck it outa wino's. Anyways, I take it and prepare to enjoy the night.

I find a nice back table and sit down ta drink my drink. Even as I'm popping the bottle open I pause. So does every other loser in that place. We're all looking at the woman walking inta the smoke filled bar. She's dressed up in a knee length coat. You can just make out some of the soft skin of her chest from around the plunging lines of the collar. Her slender neck has a strand of perfect pearls wrapped around it, pearl earrings hang from her perfect ears. Her face looks like something outta some old classic movie. It's the face of a star, the face of a queen. Her gaze sweeps over the lot of us, seemin' ta just judge everyone in one simple glance. 

Then she strides towards the corner table next ta mine. Her movements are graceful, each step is perfect. She slides her nicely packed body into the seat and tries ta slip inta the shadows. It don't work too well. What is it about dames? That one in a million kind that can send shivers down your skin with a glance. That have those perfectly formed lips and gleaming deep eyes? Whatever it is this babes got it in spades. She's a dame ta kill for, and that's fer sure. I manage ta tear my eyes off her and return ta my drink. I'm just starting to get a pleasant warmth flowing through me and I'm going for my pills when he walks in. 

I can tell right away why he's here. He's dressed way too well to be comin' inta Gurdy's for anything but her. He's a young punk, looks like he just stepped outta some magazine about the successful young businessman. He spots her easily and quickly strides through the crowds towards her. I take a minute ta check their auras, I'm smart enough ta spot some sorta Kindred problem goin' down. Sure enough they're both vampires. He stalks up to her table and starts hissing little threatening whispered comments. She argues with him. He don't take no for an answer and reaches out and grabs her wrist. He pulls her out of the booth and says she's coming with him. She yells and shoves into him as hard as she can. He staggers back and loses his balance. He smashes inta my table, breaking it apart and sending my bottle hard onto the ground. It shatters, spraying sticky alcohol filled blood all over him.

Now, I don't want you ta think I'm some sorta mad dog killer psycho nutjob. I mean, hell, I was sittin' there and drinking my drink and minding my own damn business. Ya have ta admit I wasn't lookin' for trouble. Nobody can say that I started anything with anybody. All I can say is that I had put my last bit o cash inta that bottle, and I was just tryin' ta take my damn medicine. Remember that, he started it! I sit there for a moment, just looking at my broken bottle. He quickly hops to his feet and lets out with some sorta apology or something. He mentions payment and reaches inta his coat. Now, with him breaking bottles and goin' for hidden guns what was I supposed ta do?

I quickly kick him between the legs as I hop ta my feet. As he flinches I grab his head and spin around ta slam it inta the wall. Now he did apologize so I only smash his face inta the concrete about ten or so times. When I let go he collapses in a bloody pile, teeth popping out of his mouth like Tic-Tacs. It's then I hear her breathe in, a little sharp gasp of fear. I turn around ta look at the door. Figures that the little punk woulda brought friends.

The two of em start pushing their way into the bar, headin' right for us. She gasps in fear and clutches at my arm. So I go and do something stupid and start playing Capt. Vampire again. It's a bit of a bad habit of mine. I grab her and drag her with me through the back door and inta the big alley out back. She doesn't struggle or say anything, I reckoned she knew where her better chances for survival and safety lay. She runs along with me down the alley. Behind us I hear them come bursting through the door, a bullet snaps past my ear. We dash around the corner and keep running.

We burst out onto the street. Headlights flood over us as a sweet little 79' Cadillac comes to a screeching stop. The driver leans out and starts to yell all sorts o' shit at me. I glance back and see the two bozos in business suits come running around the corner, they both got guns out. Trailing behind them comes the third guy, his face still a bloody mess, but with a mean glower on it and a big ass magnum in his hands. I turn ta look back at the driver, he's still yelling. I grab his shirt and drag him out through the window. Me and the dame hop inta the car and I floor it. The tires squeal as we roar down the street. Behind us the three goons take a couple potshots, but we're good and gone.

I keep driving for a while. She sits there quietly and watches me. She reaches into her coat and pulls out a pack o cigarettes. She lights up and takes a puff in one smooth motion. She blows the smoke outta her mouth and watches me a bit more, then she points at a street corner and asks if I'd let her out there. I pull over and stop the car. She smiles in thanks, her teeth are as perfect as the rest of her. She thanks me for the save, her voice is prim and proper, this babe is definitely a class act. She opens the door and starts ta get out when she glances back at me, something musta clicked for her...or snapped more like it, cause she all o' a sudden asks if I'd like to go get a drink.

I may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I know a good opportunity when I see one. She takes me ta some little bar I ain't never heard of. Its name is in French or something, and hard ta pronounce...The Soiree or something like that. I quickly slip inta the bathroom and wash up a bit. Gotta do my best not to appear too stupid. They must know her here cause they get us a little table right away. She orders for us, two wine glasses that are holding something far more then just fermented red grape juice. I glance around while she takes a small delicate sip. The place is all lit by candles and has actual tablecloths too. The waitresses are even wearing clothing that covers most of their body. Classical music plays in the background. This sure ain't my type of bar. 

Course the dame fits in perfectly with the place. She eases out of her coat, and believe me that show was worth all the other crud tonight. Her skin is perfect. The dress is a slinky green affair that highlights the tinge of aqua in her eyes. I can see a lot more of her curves, and they're better then I had thought. The soft swell of her breasts, the gentle curve of her hips, the elegant arch of her neck. Yeah, she's perfect all right. A dame to kill for.

We get ta talking. I tell her what I can of myself. She tells me all about herself. Her name is Gloria. She's a Ventrue. Her voice seems ta get softer and softer as she speaks. Her eyes go all aquiver and scared like. She tells me her sire is Gregory Warrens, one of the prince's own childer. She whispers about how she had to get away from him. How he does...things to her. She won't talk about them, only hints at strange practices she don't even wanna think about. She says that the men after her tonight work for him, that it's their job to make sure she can't escape. She looks inta my eyes, hers are filled with fear. She just asks me to try and remember her, to not forget her. She says that it doesn't matter what happens to you as long as you're remembered.

I start to ask her what she means when a shadow falls across us. She goes stiff and gasps, her hand clutching at mine on the tabletop. I look up at the bruiser standing over us. The guy could make a Steeler linebacker look like a pansy. He's dressed up in a fancy black suit and overcoat. He crosses his arms and sneers down at me, his thin black mustache curling around his fleshy upper lip. He says it's time for Gloria to go. Her fingers tighten on mine. I go all stupid and stand up like some sorta stinkin' knight. I tell him that it's probably up to the lady when and where she'd like ta go. He laughs at me, Gloria saves him a world o hurt by hopping up and telling me it's okay. She tells me to not worry...just remember me she says. Just remember me, and then she's gone.

I have to sneak out of the bar through a window in the bathroom. Figures that the bum would go and nab Gloria before she could pay for our drinks. I get into my Cadillac and start driving and thinking. I circle the streets slowly, I have no idea how long I keep driving... She told me ta remember her. She said it wouldn't matter what happened if I could remember her. She was bein' hunted down by a buncha goons. She mentioned things her sire was doin' to her. Things he was doin' ta hurt that beautiful and perfect creature. Remember me, that's what she said. Why should I need to remember her...unless she weren't gonna be around anymore?

My car comes to a stop. I look up. I'm out in the Heights, the biggest and richest place in Detroit. I'm parked in front of a mansion. A mansion owned by one Gregory Warrens. I look through the gate and across the lush lawn at the tall building with it's dark windows. Was she in there? Was she hurting? Was she still alive? I climb out of the car and walk up to the gate. My fists clench as I look at the building. I don't approve of guys hurtin' dames. And this was a dame worth killing for. Yeah...worth killing for!

The coast was clear so I vaulted the gate and sprinted up towards the house. There were a series of hedges arrayed along the west side of the mansion, so I slipped down behind them and crawled along till I reached the rear of the building. The entire backyard was devoted to a massive patio and pool done up like Gregory was some sorta Roman emperor. I sneak up to a low railing that encircles the place and peer between the small pillars. The pool is all lit up and glowing, water sloshing gently in it. But it ain't that I'm noticing, no it ain't even the pair of guards standing by the doors back into the mansion. It's Gloria. 

She stands poised on the diving board, her arms raised above her head and her eyes peacefully closed. Her nude body glistens in the moonlight and reflected glow from the pool. Little wavering lines of light play across her shapely legs and firm abdomen. Her full breasts rise and fall slightly as she shifts her arms. Her soft brown hair hangs damply down her slender back. She jumps and seems to freeze, poised for an instant in midair in order to let me glory at every magnificent inch of her. Then she knifes into the pool, her lithe body flowing and gliding under the water. The double doors that the guards are by swing open, the movement breaking the spell I was under.

A man stands there holding a smoking pipe. His thin wiry body is wrapped in deep red silk pajamas and a black smoking jacket. His gaunt face bears a touch of impatience as he waits for her to surface. Gloria reaches up and pulls herself out of the water and up the ladder that dips into the pool. Her body glows in the pool light, drops of water glide and flow down her supple body. The man cocks an eyebrow at her and shakes his head.

Must you be such an exhibitionist in front of the help, he says in a slight drawl. She reaches out and pulls a silky garment off a table and pulls it on. It don't exactly hide much. He asks her why she always feels the need to wash herself after being near him. She don't say nothing, she just walks past him and back into the house. The big, dark house. He rolls his eyes and grumbles something under his breath as he follows her in. So...that must be Gregory. That's who's hurting Gloria, that's who has ta die. Well, why put off till tomorrow what you can do tonight? A dame to kill for, she's given me a purpose, I intend to fulfill it.

With their boss outta sight the two guards get stupid. They plop down inta two pool chairs and start chatting and talking about the baseball game from last night while sharing a smoke. I creep over the railing behind them and start slowly inching towards them. Playing it real smart, that's my way. Then one of em says something really really stupid. He claims Mantle is a loser compared to McGwiure. Now, I'm as understanding a fellow as the next guy, but come on! Everyone has their limit... I growl and charge them. They spin around in shock as I slam into them, knocking them both outta their seats and hard to the concrete and tile-work of the patio, their guns go clattering away over the slick tiles. I grab them both by the back of their necks and drag them along. They kick and punch at me as I pull them over to the pool and shove their heads under. I keep asking them what they think of Mantle now? Huh? Who's the best fuckin' player of all time fuckin' now? Huh? Huh?

It occurs to me that they can't answer me under water. I pull them up, and it occurs to me they can't answer dead either. I drop the bodies and turn back to the house. I walk over and try to open the door. It's locked. I kick in the door and walk in. A loud bleeping starts ta go off, I guess that means ol Greg has himself an alarm system. But that's okay, I work well under pressure. I start to peek around downstairs when two guards start running down the huge stairway in the main hall. If the guards are upstairs then so is their boss. The two guys start ta shoot at me. I grab up some big suit of armor sittin' ina corner and chuck it at them. It smashes hard into one o the guys and he goes down. I charge the second. 

He fires his little mini Uzi inta me as I run. Bullets rip and tear through me, punching holes in my coat. But that's okay, cause I reach him. I grab his head and squeeze, his eyes bug out and blood sprays outta his face. The first guy pushes the armor off him, so I lean over and stomp on his neck, crushing it easily. He gags and struggles, pushing at my foot. I grind it a little, killing the dweeb deader then a doornail. I look back at the guy whose head I'm crushin' His face has kinda turned purplish-black, so I drop him and run up the stairs. I burst through the door they came out of and hit the jackpot on the first try.

Gregory himself is standing up from behind his desk, his still smoking pipe clutched in his left hand. We're in some sorta library. The walls are lined with all sortsa books and crazy collectible items. I can also see whips and chains and spikes and other strange things hanging from the walls around his desk. My eyes narrow as I look at him. I tell him he can't keep using all his crazy toys on Gloria. I tell him it ain't natural or nice. I tell him either he hands her over and lets her go free...or I do something he'll regret. His eyes look at me as he shakes his head slowly. He says he doesn't know what I'm talking about. He asks me what toys I'm referring to. He claims that Gloria can't be trusted and that I'm quite mad. I'm still not sure whether he meant Malkavian mad or Brujah mad...I guess it don't matter.

Anyways the guy was blabbering and I was just gettin' more pissed. Then he reached into a drawer of his desk and grabbed a gun out of it. I mighta been willing ta keep talkin', but now he had pretty much established himself as a bad guy. I quickly ran forward, his aim was good and accurate and he plugged me four times in the chest before I made it to him. Not like that would make a difference on his survival chances. I kicked the desk hard, it flipped up in the air and smashed into him like a battering ram. I slammed into it again as it fell on top of him. I saw his hand flopping out from under the desk and grabbed it. I jerked upwards, snapping the bone and wrenching his head and shoulders out from under the desk. He looked up at me in shock as I went ta work on him. 

I'll admit I went too far. I wuz just planning on busting him up a little and then going to find Gloria. But all I could think of was her little gasp of fear. The way her fingers curled around my hand when they came for her. The way her eyes had trembled as she talked about what he'd done to her. So I keep hitting. Bone and chunks of flesh are splattered across my hands and face. Ya can't really tell where the pools of blood end and his head begins unless ya happen ta spot his mangled neck. I breathe out and nod a bit as I stand. Then I realize...I just killed one of the prince's childer...oh hell am I in for it now.

Then I hear the soft laughter behind me. I turn around and see Gloria and that huge linebacker step into the room. He's got a pump action shotgun held carefully in his hands. She's holding a magnum as she smiles her brilliant smile at me. Her voice is still prim and proper as she thanks me, thanks me for killing an innocent man. I shake my head, I can't believe what she's saying to me. I look down at Gregory, I look around the room. Where once their was his torture devices now there's just some decorative wall hangings and rope art. She laughs again, she raises her gun and thanks me for remembering her...thanks a lot sucker. She yells the last as she fires, the bullet slams inta my arm and tosses me back.

A burning pain fills my shoulder, I glance over in shock at the smoking wound. Phosphorous rounds...the dame came prepared. Her beautiful and flawless face twists into a mask of evil as she fires again and again. I stagger and stumble as the rounds slam into me, ripping me apart. The burning phosphorous making sure the wounds can't be healed, the wounds as bad as regular bullets to a human. I collapse to my knees and look up at her, I shake my head again. No Gloria...don't...it can't be. She sneers, she fires again, the bullet glances off my skull near my eye, a burning lance of pain and blinding flash of fire. My head's tossed back as I fall to the ground. 

She orders Meno to finish me off for her. I hear his heavy footsteps start across the room towards me. I look up through pain filled and blood coated eyes. Meno walks forward as he cocks his shotgun. I twist over onto my belly and look up at the window behind me. A dame to kill for...A dame to kill. I still gotta purpose to live for. I intend to fulfill this one too. A painful surge of my muscles pushes me to my feet and sends me lurching towards the window. Meno growls and fires, the spray of phosphorous from the shotgun blasts me off my feet and through the window. 

Shattered fragments of glass rip and shred my skin and clothes as I tumble forward and start rolling down the roof. My back feels like hamburger...hamburger on a hot grill. I hear the sizzle and pop of my flesh as I tumble head over heels. Meno shouts in anger as he rushes up to the window and fires after me again and again. Sprays of liquid fire seem to dance and spark around me as I tumble off the roof and into the air. Below me I see the cool calm water of the pool. Cool soothing waters for my burning back and fiery eye...I slam down hard onto the tile of the patio about ten feet from the pool. Bones and plaster both splinter and crunch. Above me I hear Gloria yelling at Meno ta stop me. I stagger to my feet and rush along the hedges towards the front of the house.

Blood is gushing from my ruptured eye and pouring down my back by the time I reach the front gate. I hear the doors slam open as Meno charges out onto the lawn after me. I careen through the gates and practically fall into my Caddie. I turn the keys in the ignition and push down on the gas. A shotgun blast of white hot fire hisses past my ear and chews a hole through the windshield. I accelerate away, leaving Meno and Gloria far behind me. I don't bother with speed limits, the cops in the Heights would pull over a car with a shotgun hole in it anyways. Somehow I make it down off the hill, go coasting down inta the quiet peace of South Detroit. I'm bleeding bad, I can't see outta my left eye, and I can't feel most of my body. But that's okay, I won't die, I've got too much to live for.

Somebody asks me what I have to live for. I glance up to see that Gloria is sitting in the seat next to me. She laughs in my face. She tells me about how she was just using me cause she knew I was too stupid to figure it out. She reminds me how I killed an innocent punk and now the Camarilla is gonna be hunting my ass all over town. She snickers as she points out that I'll have nowhere to go and nowhere to hide. I spin around to punch her and just end up busting up the seat. No...Gloria weren't there. You haven't been taking your medication and you're seeing things again... Just gotta concentrate, concentrate on getting to a phone and dialing the number. Then you can let the darkness claim you... 


	2. Part 2

Home Improvement: A Tale of Detroit 

I come to in a room. It smells of peaches. I look up into shining hazel eyes as the radiant figure of my angel leans down over me. Her glowing face smiles slightly as she reaches up to wipe at my aching forehead. Where she touches pain flows away and peace comes. She leans back and sighs at me, her angel lips pursing slightly. She asks me what the fuck is going on. I blink a few times...not the angel, she's not the angel. Tina, I called Tina and now I'm in her apartment. I look over at her. She's wearing tight jeans and a baggy shirt. Her light brown hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail. She eyes me critically as I try to sit up, my body explodes inta pain.

Don't get up she tells me as I sink back onto the couch. I tell her she coulda freakin' told me that before I tried ta sit up. She points out that I'm bleeding all over her couch, and she did come out and pick me up after my phone call, and maybe I could show a little gratitude instead of just bitching right away like the big macho monkey I always end up acting like whenever she fucking comes out to pull my ass outta any sort of damn problem! She pants for air a bit after her tirade. 

I say thanks. 

It don't seem ta help her relax. 

Dames...go figure. 

I give her the story up to this point, making sure to keep it simple. I tell her about the Ventrue who broke my bottle. I tell her about Gloria and how she begged me for help. I tell her about how I killed Gregory. I tell her about how Gloria turned on me and tried to blow me away. Tina gets all bent outta shape about the whole affair. She asks me if I'm sure Gloria asked for help. She asks if maybe Gloria was just defending herself. She asks exactly why breaking a bottle deserves a horrid beating. Basically she seems to think it's all my fault.

I slump back, too tired ta really listen to her. Instead I let my mind loose, like it seems ta want to be. I seem ta recall standing on a mountain somewhere looking down at some huge city in a desert. I seem to be making some sorta vow. Something about revenge and honor. Then I'm down in tunnels being grabbed by some shadowy figure. Then I'm waking up in a dumpster while little dancing hamsters parade along my chest. I sit and realize something as I watch them. Revenge, it's all I've ever done, for myself or others. Does that make me a bad person, or a good one? Then I'm back in Tina's apartment. Amy's shown up. 

Oh yeah, did I mention that beside being a mage that Tina's a dyke? Damn shame what with the equipment she has. I asked her about it once, but she hauled off and slugged me for it. Anyways, Amy is a lawyer though she's just a regular human besides that. Yeah, a lawyer and a shrink pair o dykes. Damn shame about Amy too, she also has a pretty good rack. Also, despite the fact that Amy's just a regular human, Tina's takin' to telling her all about the supernatural world around her. Well Amy listens to Tina's story and occasionally glances over at me with a frown. Needless ta say that Amy don't like me very much, she thinks I'm dangerous and will get Tina hurt. She's probably right, but at least she don't complain about the sofa or demand I get out. She also agrees to go arrange to get some blood out of a nearby blood bank. Sweet gal.

After Amy leaves I tell Tina what I need. Just a place to heal and lay low for a little while. Then I'll go and deal with Gloria and this whole mess will be over. For some reason that don't seem to relax Tina any. She goes off on some long spiel about what's right and wrong. Basically she seems ta think I'm wrong, and leaving the whole mess alone is right. Now, I don't know about all these social obligations and society expectations she's blabbering about. What I do know is I don't leave my business unfinished...

Two nights later I'm back on my own feet. Tina has me all bandaged up like some freakin' reject from a mummy movie. But whatever it is she's doing it is helping me heal quicker then normal. I'm in the kitchen relaxing and chatting about country music with a few cowboys when Tina walks in on me. She demands ta know the last time I took my medicine was. I wonder what she's on about till it occurs to me that there weren't no cowboys in her apartment. Why would there be? I told you she's a dyke, right? It then occurs to me that I haven't taken my medicine for about five nights. Guess that means maybe I ain't in the best mental shape of my life, but that's okay cause physically I'm starting ta feel pretty good. I check my pockets and can't find the pills, my coat had gotten all shot ta hell and was barely holding up itself, much less some bottle. I shrug in apology and mutter about how I need ta get a new coat.

Tina gets all bent outta shape, she starts going on and on about how I can't be thinkin' about killing somebody unless I know for certain what I'm killing them for. It sorta makes sense, so I agree ta sit tight while she runs off to her office to mix up a fresh batch of pills. She says we're gonna have a good long chat about what I oughta do when she gets back. Sweet kid Tina, too bad I was lyin' my teeth off. Soon as she slips out the door I'm popping out her window and scaling down the back wall of her apartment building. I drop the last few feet to the ground and breath in the stale city air. It's aromas as familiar to me as my own face. Yeah, the city's been moving while I've been healing, I better get a feel for it again before I make any moves.

I know where ta go, I know what ta do. I head down ta Gurdy's. The bouncer gives me an odd look, my clothes are still torn and splattered with my and Gregory's blood. My face and arms are practically covered with bandages. But he also knows about me, and about Gurdy's rule to always let me in. I don't get a lot of guff here, that's why I like it. Gurdy makes sure I get a nice place to spend my nights, I make sure that the bodies he needs disappeared are never found. It's one of those...y'know symbiotic relationships or something. Symbiotic, means both people benefit. I found that word in a dictionary. More people should read the dictionary, lotsa good words in there. But I'm not here for words, or quiet, or even a shot o Gurdy's brew. I'm here looking for something small and hairy.

Weevil...the little feller's sittin' at a table and sucking back some sauce. He's an informant. He works for anyone and is even on the Setite's payroll. I broke his legs once or twice. He's a friend. He glances up and spots me coming, tries ta bolt right outta his chair. I grab him on the top of his head and shove him back down. Relax Weevil, I tell him, I'm just here ta talk, it's money in your pocket. He gets all worried, running his hands through his long frizzly hair and yammering away in that crazy stutter of his. Basically he says I'm too dangerous to be hanging around right now. I ask him when he thinks I'd be less dangerous...he goes quiet.

I break a few fingers and get him talking. He tells me that a bloodhunt has been called on me. It's not being particuarly obeyed except by the Ventrue and Toreador, though it's a sure bet that the sheriff is hunting for me too. Man, that dame Gloria done gone and framed me for killing her sire...eh? Whazzat? I did kill him? Well hell I know that! But I did it for the wrong reasons, and it wasn't those reasons that she was blaming me for! Anyways, Weevil mentions that now Gloria has been appointed a spot in Steven's court and gotten all sorts of prestige and power outta the whole mess. She's even remodeling the whole damn mansion to suit her tastes.

I grab Weevil and tell him plain and simple. I tell him ta go find Gloria and tell her he saw me. Tell her I was hittin' the clubs and getting drunk off my ass over some babe who messed with me. I tell him ta get good money for it too, cause it'd be worth it. I let him go, he goes running off like a bat outta hell. I don't worry about the possibility he might not do what I ask, he knows I'd live just long enough ta make sure he regretted it. I stomp up to the bar, it's only when I dig inta my pockets that I realize I don't have any cash. No cash means no booze. Damn! 

But then things take a bright note, there was some jumpy guy who'd just gotten himself a bottle of Gurdy's special brew. Thing is the guy is jumpy as hell, and he gets all excited when this strawberry blonde comes up and hits on him. They talk a bit and he walks off with a big grin on his face. I give him a toast with his own abandoned bottle. Ah, ain't love grand? I sip my drink, I hang out. Harris wanders in, he's another pal o' mine. Kinda quiet and strange, but a decent sort. We sit together in a corner and listen to Nancy do her thing on stage, Harris of course leaves right after that.

I've just gotten drunk enough ta start feeling dangerous when I feel the barrel of a gun poke inta the small of my back. A thick accented voice tells me ta finish my drink. I glance up, It's Meno and some other little dweeb. I grin as I finish off the dregs of the bottle, bout damn time they showed up. I stand up, the little guy stays behind me, the gun pressing into my back. Meno walks along in front of me as he leads us towards the back door. I look him up and down, big dangerous guy an' all but...I tell him that he's got one nice coat. Hell, it's one of those sweet flap-back trenchcoats they seemed ta stop making in the fifties.

We step out through the back, and right on cue Gurdy amps up the speakers ta drown out the noise. I'm talking about Meno's coat when I, for some dumb reason, manage ta stumble. Surprise, surprise when I grab out for something I happen ta snag the little dweeb's gun arm. He realizes what's about ta go down and yells a warning ta Meno. The big guy spins around even as I get a good grip on the gun, I cap him in the gut. He howls as he falls back, phosphorus rounds, I had kinda figured they'd be.

I twist around, splintering the gunman's arm as I grab his face. I spin it around and slam it inta the brick wall of the alley. I keep doing it, the wet smacking sounds echo slightly off the high walls. Finally I drop him, he ain't gonna get up again for a good long time. If ever. I point the gun at Meno who's trying ta get to his feet. I shoot him in the leg. He bawls like a baby as he drops to the ground. I tell him ta take off his coat. He glares at me through pain filled eyes but does as he's told. I tell him to fill me in, I want the whole damn story.

He spills the beans while I switch into his coat. Gloria was some piece of work. She had planned the whole thing out. First off she wasn't just Gregory's childe, she was his broodmate, one of Steven's childer. She had moved in with him, he had offered to help her out after some Sabbat torched her old place. She had been positioning herself to take over his whole operation, she didn't plan on living just off what he would give her. But she had needed a easy way ta remove him, something that wouldn't make Steven suspect her. When she had seen me it had all fallen inta place. She'd found the perfect patsy. Someone that nobody of note would think twice about blaming and killing without a messy investigation.

Needless ta say that sorta pisses me off. Being used by the anarchs as a legbreaker is one thing, but this dame used me big time. I planned to collect... I smack Meno around a bit more as a warning. I tell him that I'm a little confused and don't wanna kill anyone till I was sure they deserved it. But I told him that if he went back to her, if he stayed near her, then his goose was as good as cooked. He laughed at me, laughed and asked what I thought I could do to a Ventrue childe of the prince. Me, a nothing, a Caitiff nobody. He laughs some more. I grab him and headbutt him hard enough ta snap his neck. He drops to the ground, I dump his gun next to him as I walk off.

I go for a walk as I think things over. I'm not the brightest of guys, but if I think on something long enough I can usually manage to figure it out. Yeah, Gloria had worked me like a two-bit jukebox. And I had played all the tunes she'd requested. Now the whole city was hunting me thinking I'd killed off the prince's childe. Meanwhile Gloria was sitting back and reaping in all the rewards off of killing her broodmate. She was as dangerous as she was beautiful. There weren't exactly any holes in her plan I could work on. Hell, she'd even set it up so I actually did murder the bum.

Then it occurs to me. What about the other childer of the prince? Shouldn't they be sweating over this whole mess a little? After all, what's to keep Gloria from turning around and working this little game on them too. Well, with that as a thought I get to walking with a purpose. I drift into downtown Detroit. The tall office buildings loom over me and block out any easy sight of the stars or moon. I find the chief offices for the Detroit Herald and wander through the doors.

A couple security guards seem to materialize around me as I step into the lobby. They nervously watch me as one of 'em demands ta know my business. I tell him I don't really have a job and he seems ta get all pissed at me for no reason. I tell him I need ta see Jamieson. They get nervous and glance at each other a bit. Then the leader looks at me with his watery little eyes while his lip curls back in a sneer. He tells me that Mr. Jamieson ain't seein' nobody. He tells me maybe I better turn around and get outta here before they call up the sheriff. Some of his pals chuckle as their hands drift down towards their guns.

It really gets my goat when people laugh at me and I don't get the joke.

I reach out and grab the head guard's arm. I break it. The others all freak out and go for their weapons. Now, with them drawing their guns obviously I had to defend myself. It's not like I was lookin' for a fight. It was just the only sane course o' action was all. I quickly backhand the nearest guy, my fist shattering his face. My foot arcs out and cracks inta another one's knee, splintering it apart. One of the guy's behind me jumps on my back and wraps his arms around my head. A few bullets rip inta my side. I spin around for the two gunmen. I shoulder inta one and stomp down on his groin. At the same instant I grab the other by his shirt and ram my head forward inta his. Blood sprays across my face as I drop him and reach out to grab onto one who was trying to run. I pull his head towards me as I kick him in the back. I hear his spine snap as the one with a broken leg starts shooting at me. I hurl the broken backed fellow inta him. 

My head is pulled slightly to the side, that's when I remember the one on my back. I reach up and pop his shoulder outta joint as I drag him off. I grab his jaw and pull it off. Blood sprays out of his shattered face as I toss the jaw away and drop him. I walk over and grab the whimpering commander. I ask him where I can find Jamieson. He tells me that his office is on the top floor and points to the elevators. I thank him and snap his neck. I wipe some of the blood off my face as I step inta the elevator. Don't want to give Jamieson a bad first impression after all.

Yeah, Jamieson is the sort ya wanna make a good first impression on. He's a Ventrue and is the childe of Eric; Seneschal of the city and eldest of prince Steven's childer. Blake Jamieson was the biggest mover and shaker of the prince's group that I figured I could get an easy meeting with. That's because Blake's in charge of keeping track of all the news organizations in town. It's his job to keep any mention of Kindred activities out of the papers and news programs. As a result he keeps regular office hours and is forced to meet with lots o' people.

Tonight he gets ta meet with me. 

The elevator doors hiss open as I step into the outer office. Some little pretty boy kid is sitting behind the desk. He looks up at me with a strained smile. He bats his goofy eyes and asks if I would be so kind as to wait. Jeez I hate these pansy types so many of us keep around. By us, I mean vampires. Where was it written we had to surround ourselves with skinny little teenyboppers who struck our fancy? The kid also has long blonde hair...man I hate that. I walk over to his desk and snarl down at him. I ask if he's gonna stop me. He nervously starts ta stand up...I make him sit down again.

I walk inta Blake's office and slam shut the door so we won't have to listen to the bawling cries of pain from that punk kid. Blake is sitting behind his desk and frowning. He looks about like I'd expected. Thin, his brown hair prematurely balding, a pair of horn rimmed glasses perched on his narrow nose. I walk up to shake his hand. Then I realize I'm still holding a big clump of that kid's hair. Blake's eyes widen as he eyes the bloody clump. I shrug and toss it over my shoulder. I tell him we need ta talk. I start telling him about Gloria, and how dangerous she could be ta Eric, Blake's sire.

Blake locks eyes with me. He tells me to calm down and back off. I ask him what the heck he's talking about. He repeats himself, but this time I feel the tug at my mind. The little pansy is trying to jerk me around with that Ventrue dominate trick! Problem is that apparently I'm a more powerful generation then him, thus I ain't affected. I come over his desk and grab onto the lapels of his suit. He starts screaming and crying about how I shouldn't hurt him. I hold him over my head and shake him around a bit. I demand ta know why he's trying to dominate me. He blubbers about the blood hunt and the prince's orders. He says thanks to Gloria I'm as good as dead.

Suddenly the office doors slam open. I turn around and watch a fresh batch of guards storm in. Leading them in is a young man dressed all in black. Michael, one of the sheriff's deputies and a supposed badass. He orders me to drop Jamieson and come quietly. He says that I have an appointment with the sun and he plans on making sure I keep it. He strides ahead of the guards and marches right up to me. He says that the prince has ordered my death, and that I should just accept it. He reminds me nobody has ever crossed prince Steven and lived.

Then it occurs ta me. The prince! Of course, if I wanna sort things out I need ta get the prince on my side. I chuck Blake across the room and into his guards. They all go down in a big and confused jumble. I smile as I grab Michael's trench coat and start pushing him back. He growls in surprised anger and grabs at me. Too late does he realize where I'm rushing us to...convienent of Blake to have all these big fancy windows. I hate having to waste all that time in an elevator. The glass shatters in an explosion of sharp, jagged bits. Wind hisses across my face. For one glorious moment it feels like I'm flying with my angel.

Then we hit.

I come to and start sending blood out to patch up my extensive collection of shattered bones. I glance over at Michael, he's laying there and healing too. I start telling him about the whole thing with Gloria. I tell him I need him to take me to see the prince. I pull myself to my feet and lean down to pick him up. I point out all the dangers that Gloria could pose. By the time he's finished healing I can clearly hear the sirens of approaching police. I ask Michael what his move is.

He says maybe I better see the prince. We get into his black Caddie and drive off. Michael starts handing me all these veiled threats about how lucky I am. He points out how I better behave for Steven, else he's going to rip me apart. He mutters a few more threats as we finally arrive at some huge mansion on the outskirts of town. The door is opened by a tough looking fellow in a black suit. He leads us inta some big room full of books and other little doodads.

Michael heads off ta speak ta Steven. He leaves the tough guy watching me. I kinda pace around the room and poke around in some of the books. Most of them are really strange, don't even look like the writer knew good English. I just picked up some little wicker action figure when the doors swing open. I look up in surprise and accidentally crush the toy. Steven stands in the doorway, flanked by Michael and a few more fellows who look a lot like the doorman. His eyes narrow as he looks at the figure in my hand. I shrug and say he's probably too old to still own toys. I drop it back on the pedestal I got it off of.

Steven clenches his hands a few times, then chuckles and shrugs. He smiles as he sits down in a big leather chair. He motions for me ta sit in another. He then asks me ta give him the whole story. He listens carefully. He don't even have ta interrupt me with stupid questions like some other people I know. Finally he nods and asks what it is I'd like to do about this whole little mess. I figure to just tell it straight, I tell him I plan ta go kill Gloria real painfully. Steven smirks at me. He says I have a remarkably simple manner of both causing and fixing problems.

But he says it is good that I came to see him fortuitous to these events. I had to go look up that word later. Fortuitous...it means...later. I just nod a bit. He tells me that if something were to happen to Gloria it might not be such a bad thing. He says perhaps the Blood Hunt could be shifted slightly. Redirected away from around her house. He says that if I do things right he might even make the whole problem disappear.

I say thanks. 

I tell him I was sure he'd understand what was going down. We shake hands and he has Michael lead me out. The little pansy threatens me a bit more. Makes all sort of suggestions about what could happen to me if I messed things up. Luckily for him I was on good behavior around the prince's house, so he got to keep all his body parts in one piece. So anyways, I get to walkin' back to Tina's place, figuring I had to plan out what to do about Gloria.

As I walk a sweet little green Thunderbird pulls up next to me. Some guy wearin' little red glasses and with his hair all up in a purple mohawk tells me ta get in. I laugh at him and tell him I know when I've been off my medication too long. I know what's real and what isn't. He seems ta just get pissed and tells me ta get in the damn car. It then occurs to me that even my delusions have more sense of style then this guy...so I figure maybe I oughta see what he wants.

We drive out to a warehouse in the middle of nowhere. Inside it looks like some sorta meeting is going down. Just a few people hanging out and shooting the breeze. As I come in they all seem ta get excited. They start cheering and laughing and patting me on the back. I begin to wish this was just a delusion, it'd probably make more sense that way. Purple mohawk man then introduces me to this little slip of a teenager dressed up in the latest fashions. Of course the latest fashions for kids are pants two sizes too big, and shirts three sizes too small. I try not to laugh at her.

She says her name is La Belle Dame Sans Moris. She says she's the leader of the local cell of anarchs. Then she asks if I would do them the honor of joining up. Y'see, apparently they think I went and offed one of the prince's childer because of my anguish over the social bigotry the Ventrue and elders impose on the poor neonates of the city. Mind you those were her words, not mine. Well I look over all these goofy punks and just shrug. I tell them I don't have time to join up right now cause I have to go kill Gloria.

For some reason that sets them all off again. They start howling about vengeance and reclaiming their pride. They slap me on the back and call me a hero. Belle just gasps and asks if I'm serious. She says that Gloria is probably the second most politically powerful Ventrue in the city. She warns me that Gloria is actually making a move for the princedom of the city. She says that maybe it'd be dangerous to go and try to get rid of her. After all, she surely has guards against anything the prince might try. Not to mention the whole problem of a Blood Hunt on my head.

All of a sudden some other guy comes racing in. He's all excited as horseshit about something. He starts yelling about how some maniac stormed Blake Jamieson's office. How he killed a buncha guards, mutilated Jamieson's favored vessel, and beat the hell outta Jamieson and Michael. I tell them I only chucked Jamieson around a bit and shoved Michael outta window. All of a sudden they're totally losing it. They shout and yell, acting like I'm John Wayne or something.

Belle grabs onto my hand, her eyes flash eagerly. She says it would be her honor to work with me. She begs me to join with them and let them help me with my just crusade...once again, these are her words, not mine. Well, I'm not really sure what they're so worked up about. But the thought of having a bit of backup when I go in ta face Gloria sounds like a decent idea...

So I say sure.


End file.
